


Proper Handling

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Handlers, M/M, Office Sex, Possessive Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Frustration, Unwelcome Arousal, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dealing with a difficult case leaves Neal frustrated. Fortunately, Peter is adept at the proper handling of unruly CIs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Handling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twinsarein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/gifts).



> Hey Twinsarein! Thanks for so many great prompt and kink ideas! You made me even more excited to pop my Peter/Neal smut cherry. This is very -slightly- AU S5 to facilitate better sexxings and I hope you'll forgive me - your idea of Neal getting all hot and bothered by Hagan's voice was too delicious not to incorporate just a little bit of. ;)  
> Hope this hits the spot!

"Do you have it?"

Even before he'd answered the phone, Neal's heart had already started racing in anticipation. It always felt like that. Working the con. Reading your opponent, trying to anticipate their play, trying to twist it, turn it to your benefit. Normally he'd relish in those moments, relish in the rush of energy that tingled through his body. The perfect, focused moments of even-headed clarity he could only find like this. The ability to fully utilize his innate and perfectly honed skills.

But normally he wasn't dealing with Curtis Hagan.

The most infuriating thing about all of it, Neal thought - other than, of course, the constant threat of having both his _and_ Peter's lives ruined, which would also mean ruining El's life and probably dragging Mozzie, Clinton, Diana and who the hell knows else along for the ride - 

The most infuriating thing about this deal with the devil was that, try as he might, he could not bank down the completely unwanted shudder of arousal he felt every time he heard Curtis Hagan purr in his ear.

"You know the consequences if you don't deliver," Hagan said, low, warm, and rough, like velvet over stone. Neal tried not to squirm in his seat at the conference table, tried not to make eye contact with Peter as he made the familiar motion to _keep him on the phone_.

"I need more time," he tried to press - a rough, juvenile attempt to stall that he cursed himself for - and Hagan gave a soft tut on the other end of the phone.

"You need to do exactly as I tell you," he growled, and Neal's disobedient cock twitched in response. "Tomorrow. Four PM." Then the line went dead.

Diana pushed back her laptop, voice a frustrated growl. "Somewhere in Manhattan, but we couldn't get closer. Sorry, boss."

"Sorry," Neal echoed, as annoyed at himself as he was at Hagan.

Peter shook his head. "We knew it was a long shot. He knows us too well. We'll stick with plan A. Now go home and get some sleep, we'll go through it all again in the morning."

The conference room cleared out in a matter of minutes; everyone had been putting in long hours. How could they do anything but, with The Dutchman back in play? With the unspoken, but very possible ties to Agent Siegel's death? Soon it was just Peter left in the room, glaring at the transcript of the phone call on his laptop screen, and Neal, still uncomfortably aroused and angry at himself for it.

He closed his eyes and drew a slow, deep breath, counting to ten. Trying to will his pulse to slow, trying to push away the rush of adrenaline. He let himself focus on a long exhale, registering and ignoring the sounds of Peter moving in the conference room. Then he felt the heat of the other man's body stepping close, Peter's hand resting warmly on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Neal's lips pursed in annoyance at the reply. "I'm sorry. That was amateur."

"You did the best you could."

"I didn't," Neal shot back, angrier at himself. "I'm off my game. Don't say I'm not. He's so frustrating - "

Peter gave a soft, soothing noise. He slid his hand along his shoulder to cup the back of Neal's neck with more familiarity than he ever allowed to show when others were around. "Can't enjoy yourself with so much at stake, can you?"

Neal glanced away, lips tightening. "Of course not."

Peter's thumb rubbed through his hair. "And you hate that he's got you right where he wants you..."

He wanted to brush it off with some witty retort, but the laugh that escaped his lips sounded forced and leaden. "Pouring salt in the wound, Peter?"

"No." Peter kept his voice soft, not rising to the jibe; it reminded Neal that all Peter's teasing banter was just one face of him, something light and inconsequential covering the man's deep insight and intellect. His voice lowered a bit more. "You hate that he knows how to work you... get you all worked up... and then he just disconnects...." 

Neal's cheeks burned, shame mixing with the turmoil of frustration and adrenaline. Responding felt impossible. Then Peter's fingers tightened on the back of his neck, inadvertantly pulling a soft gasp from his lips.

Of course Peter already knew how he felt. Peter knew exactly how he felt. Peter, who'd always been able to read him better than anyone. Who'd honed his abilities just as fine as Neal had honed his. He swallowed hard. "Peter...."

Peter's thumb pressed into to the base of his skull briefly, fingers digging into the back of his neck, enough to start Neal's heart racing again. Then he released him, moving unhurriedly around the conference room table to the door to his office. When Neal didn't follow he turned, looking entirely too smug as he beckoned Neal forward with two fingers.

Neal tried to swallow down a rush of desire. "Shouldn't you be going home to Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth would be very disappointed in me if I left you... improperly handled." Peter looked even more smug at the subtle pun, but Neal couldn't make himself rise to it. Instead he stood silently, joining Peter at the door, following him into his office.

He couldn't quite imagine what Peter thought he was doing. Even though the glass was soundproof, they would be immediately visible to anyone who came even halfway into the White Collar division. Peter had let him blow him once, though, safely hidden on his knees behind Peter's desk. He felt his cock twitch at the remembrance - how Peter had managed to stay completely and aggravatingly calm apart from the hard clench of his fingers in Neal's hair, encouraging and half controlling him. Hungrily swallowing down Peter's cock had made Neal achingly hard, and he might have come in his suit pants instead of all over Peter's chair legs if Peter hadn't quietly ordered him to touch himself, moments before coming down Neal's throat.

He would certainly be okay with doing that again. He gave a soft, relieved sigh as Peter hooked a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss that was insistent and demanding. Letting Peter take control was exactly what he needed right now, and he melted into the reassuring solidity of his form with a soft, relieved moan, lips parting to the press of his lover's tongue. Peter's fingers tangled deliciously in the back of his jacket as he sucked and nipped at his bottom lip, and Neal gave himself over completely. Pressing his half-hard cock against the warm strength of Peter's body brought a delicious shudder of arousal, and he let himself indulge as Peter groaned into his mouth, rolling his hips against him until they were both wonderfully hard.

When he reached for Peter's fly his lover drew back, though, smirking slightly, a hand on Neal's chest to keep him from following. "Not yet." He settled into his desk chair, leaning back, eyes moving over Neal appreciatively. "Take off your pants and bend over the desk."

Neal felt a surge of arousal even as the absurdness of the thought resonated in his mind. "You can't be serious."

"I'm always serious."

"You're going to fuck me over your desk?" His words fell messily somewhere between incredulous and encouraging. Of course he'd fantasized about it, but the reality - 

"That's not what I said. Maybe I'll consider it, if you're good." His voice lowered, growing just a touch more stern. "Are you going to be good, Neal?"

Neal shuddered despite himself, the ingrained need to balk at orders and authority overridden, for the moment, by the familiar pleasure of giving in to Peter. He toed off his shoes and socks as he unbuttoned his slacks, sliding them down, the fine fabric catching briefly on his anklet as he stepped out of them. Then he pushed them out of the way and turned to do as instructed, leaning over the desk and resting his weight on his forearms.

Perhaps it would look like he was just studying a case file with particular intensity, if anyone was to come in. Studying, with Peter dropping to his knees behind him, smoothing his palms over Neal's asscheeks. Squeezing, kneading, spreading them apart, finally drawing his thumb down the crease to press against his hole.

A shudder ran through him, part at the tease of sensation, but more at the thought of what might come after. "Peter - "

"I hope you're not about to complain." Peter sounded as calm and matter of fact as if he'd just handed him the brief for an insurance fraud case.

"No. No complaining."

"Good." He pulled open a drawer, and moments later Neal felt slick drip down his asscrack, Peter's thumb spreading it over his skin, circling teasingly before finally pressing inside him. He gave a soft, approving hum as he pressed deeper, massaging gently, the rush of penetration pushing a soft grunt from Neal's throat.

"It hasn't escaped me," Peter murmured, "How much more obedient you are like this." He pumped his thumb in him a few times before easing it away, then pressing two slick fingers up into him.

Neal closed his eyes at the rush of pleasure. "You've got me in a rather vulnerable position," he managed to reply, and Peter's fingers twisted inside him in response, brushing up against his prostate, making him whimper.

"Obviously not vulnerable enough if you can still think straight enough to be cheeky." He fingered him slowly, in long, smooth thrusts, teasing sensation.

"Can never think straight around you," Neal managed to gasp, biting back a whimper as Peter's fingers twisted inside him again. "God..."

"Can't you? Funny, because I was sure you were getting hard in the conference room just talking to Hagan...."

He still sounded infuriatingly calm, and Neal tried to press back into the aggravatingly slow press of his fingers. "No...."

"No? Don't lie to me, Neal." Peter's fingers slid from him, and Neal gave a soft, frustrated sob of loss. Then he felt the puff of Peter's breath, felt the flat of his tongue lick over his hole.

"Oh god - !" Neal tried to push back into the sensation, spreading his thighs wider. "Please...."

"Tell me the truth, then." Peter's words teased hot against his ass before he licked him again, circling his tongue teasingly. "Tell me the truth and I'll give you exactly what you need."

Neal bit his lip on a soft sob of frustration. "Peter...."

"Come on, sweetheart...." Peter slid a hand up his thigh to cup his sack as he continued to lick and tease, squeezing gently. Then he reached between his thighs to cup Neal's aching cock, pressing it up against his stomach, palming him slowly. "I know he turns you on just as much as he frustrates you... that voice growling in your ear, giving you orders...."

Neal's thighs trembled as he fought the urge to squirm under the tease of sensation. "Not like you."

"No?" Peter gave a low hum as he pressed his tongue inside him, breaching him in a single slow, slick thrust, groaning at Neal's breathless cry. His lips teased and brushed against him as he spoke. "I frustrate you and turn you on?"

"You know you do," Neal managed to gasp. "And you like it."

"Mmm..." Peter licked into him again, low moan thrumming through him, and for a moment all Neal could do was feel, breath catching in pleasure at the slow, slick thrusts of his tongue, licking and teasing and stretching him open. Then Peter pulled back, sliding two fingers back inside him again. "I suppose there's a certain satisfaction to seeing you all desperate and helpless like this."

Neal whimpered despite himself. Peter was toying with him, torturing him, the slow thrusts of his fingers achingly good but not nearly enough. "Peter, please...."

"Please?" Peter's tongue swiped wet around his fingers, free hand giving his cock a squeeze. His voice was low. Commanding. "Tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"More." Neal whimpered as his fingers twisted inside him again, hips bucking helplessly under the penetration.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that." Peter pulled his fingers from him, giving a soft, soothing hum at Neal's soft sob of loss. Then he stood, leaning over him, nosing aside the collar of his jacket to nip lightly at his skin. He rolled his hips deliberately against Neal's ass, pressing the soft wool of his slacks against his skin as he ground the length of his erection between his ass cheeks.

Neal tried to grind up against him, pinned against the desk under his weight. "Please...."

"Please?" Peter nipped at his earlobe, voice a low growl against his ear. "You want me to fuck you like this, Neal? Bent over my desk where anyone could see you?"

Neal felt like he would have agreed to anything at that point, but the idea was inexplicably tantalizing, his heart pounding in his ears. "God yes, please...."

"Yeah?" Peter gave another hard thrust against his ass, chuckling low and delighted. "You're so hard for it, aren't you? Have you fantasized about this, sweetheart? Maybe you want me to order you down like this in the middle of the day and plow your tight little ass while everyone watches...."

The fantasy of it made him feel desperate and needy despite its impossibility. "Anything you want Peter. Just please..."

"Anything I want?" Peter nipped harder at the crook of his neck, reaching between them to undo his slacks, his cock hot and heavy as he ground against Neal's ass. "Maybe I'll fuck you just like this... leave you with my come dribbling down your thighs as you put those nice pants back on and go back to work....."

Neal squirmed, gasping at the drag of Peter's cock over his hole. "Oh god yes - please - anything - God, Peter, please fuck me - !"

"Well, aren't we needy...." Peter's growl was undeniably pleased. He pulled back briefly, long enough to slick himself but entirely too long for Neal's liking. Then he pressed one hand between Neal’s shoulder blades as he drew the head of his cock down the crease of his ass, teasing him with it. "You only take orders from me, you understand, Neal?"

Neal gave a sob of frustration, trying to press back against him. "Yes. Only you. God, Peter, please...."

"Only me," Peter repeated, finally starting to press into him. 

Neal cried out at the familiar and longed for stretch of his body yielding to the insistent press of Peter's cock, the aching shudder of sensation as relieving as it was pleasurable. Then Peter drew away again, and Neal gave an embarrassing sob before he could stop himself, trying to fuck himself back onto his cock, fingers scrabbling at the desk. "Fuck, Peter!"

"Shh..." Peter leaned over to kiss his jaw, rocking back into him slowly. "I'll give you everything you need, sweetheart...." He murmured, each thrust pressing deeper. "Do as I say and I'll always take care of you....."

Despite all the torturous teasing, that was really what made the difference - the undeniable truth of Peter's words. Neal pressed back against him with a breathless groan, revelling in the slide of Peter's cock inside him, the perfect ache of being stretched open by his thick girth. "God yes, Peter, please..."

"Shh. I know how you need it." Peter nipped at his neck, starting to move harder, drawing back and filling him again, pushing a breathless cry of pleasure from his mouth.

Finally Neal felt like he could let himself go completely to the pleasure of being fucked, closing his eyes, not trying to hold back his moans. "God, Peter, handle me so good....."

Peter gave a soft, breathless chuckle. His hands found Neal's on the desk, covering them with his own, pinning him down as he started to pick up the pace. "Cheeky," he murmured, teeth grazing the side of his neck. Then he gave a soft curse, yanking Neal back suddenly to his hands and knees under the desk.

"Peter - !" The spike of panic did nothing to dissuade his erection - rather the opposite - and he groaned as Peter slid back into him.

"Shhh...." Peter covered his mouth with a hand, voice low in his ear. “Just the elevator light. Even if someone's here, no one will know if you keep quiet. You can be quiet for me, can't you?"

Neal managed a nod, sucking on Peter's fingers hungrily as he pressed them into his mouth. Peter seemed determined to make him do otherwise, though, bucking into him hard and fast. The wool of Peter's suit pants rubbed against his skin as his hips smacked against Neal's ass, each thrust angling to send a rush of pleasure up his spine, intensity building hot and quick.

"So good for me," Peter purred in his ear, thrusts growing a little more ragged. "God, Neal... come on, sweetheart... wanna feel you come on my cock....."

The helplessness in Peter's words was just as tantalizing as the pound of his cock, He whimpered around Peter's fingers and clenched down briefly, intentionally around him, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the way it made Peter curse, hips jerking up into him. His ragged thrusts were the last bit of intensity he needed, and in moments Neal was forcing back a cry as sensation overwhelmed him, his whole body trembling with pleasure and the effort to keep quiet as ecstasy cascaded through him. Peter gave another choked curse against his ear, the frantic buck of his hips taking Neal's orgasm to a fever pitch. Finally he groaned, breathless, pulsing and spilling deep inside him, grinding against his ass as he came.

Neal couldn't remember the last time that he'd felt so deliciously overwhelmed by release, and he let himself drift in it, lost to the ebbing shudders of pleasure, the rush of his pulse in his ears slowing as he tried to catch his breath. Bliss and well-being thrummed through his nerves, and he reveled in it, half-collapsing down onto his forearms with a soft moan.

"So good for me," Peter murmured, leaning over him, lavishing slow kisses on the back of his neck and the side of his jaw. "So good, Neal...."

Neal smiled silently, catching hold of one of Peter's hands and tugging him closer, sighing at the warm security of his lover curling around his body. He turned his face back towards him, smiling as Peter nuzzled along his jaw, finding his lips for slow, sweet kisses. Peter's care was incomparable, but never sweeter than in moments like this, kisses adoring and almost reverent in the aftermath of pleasure.

"Do you feel better?" Peter murmured finally, and Neal gave a soft hum in response, reluctantly bringing his thoughts back to reality.

"So much better," he murmured, then frowned. "How the hell are we gonna get out of here?"

Peter chuckled softly. "Well, as much as I love the thought of continuing to hide under my desk with you, I lied about the elevator. There's no-one here."

"You lied? You?" Neal grinned as he faked indignation. "Peter. After all that stuff about me being truthful with you."

"Don't act like you didn't like it." Peter pressed a grinning kiss to his smile. "Pretty hot, hm?"

"... it was pretty hot," Neal admitted, too blissed out to keep up the ruse.

"And I didn't even have to do anything illegal to make your heart beat faster."

"I'm pretty sure having sex on FBI property isn't exactly kosher."

Peter nipped at his bottom lip. "Just because something's against policy doesn't make it illegal. Besides, I'm the boss now."

"And you're setting a terrible example for your poor, impressionable CI."

"So you want me to stop, then." Peter pulled away to rest on his heels, looking fabulously rumpled and debauched and completely too smug for his own good. "No more of this."

"I didn't say that." Neal cuddled into him, looking up at Peter through his eyelashes. "Besides... without such diligent handling, I might just return my old, wicked ways."

Peter chuckled softly, arm tightening around his waist. "Can't have that," he murmured, and kissed him again.

Neal gave a soft hum in agreement and relaxed into the kiss, letting himself forget about all possibility of trouble for a moment of safety and happiness in the strength of Peter's arms.


End file.
